


Heart Piece

by traipsingexodus



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Heartbreak, Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 04:25:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16010261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traipsingexodus/pseuds/traipsingexodus
Summary: Moments before the wind.Concept by ee4ee.





	Heart Piece

It was done now. Beyond done. Done and done, as they say. Frederick stared at the glittering heart piece on the table in front of him. Lara was gone, and this was all that remained.

They said that the rest of the body would rot away and leave nothing but it behind, and that this little strange gem-like piece lodged in the chests of gardevoir everywhere would be all he’d have to remember her by. That, and the memories.

He was warned - the memories were what drove the surviving partner mad, but only when the piece was present. Whispers of times long past drifted across his mind and broke the surface of his thoughts into ten thousand tiny ripples. Each of them echoed feelings and set his head alight with colors of the moments that time stole from him when it declared he’d had his fill.

A single finger ran down the length of the gem and left a wake of bittersweet memories in his mind’s eye. The times he had been happy with Lara at his side, the times they’d fought, suffered together or apart - time, all of it, stretched itself out in his head and overwhelmed him. So much time had passed, and it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.

He picked the piece up and clutched it close to his chest. For a moment, he could almost feel her heartbeat through it, in rhythm with his own. A fleeting glimpse of times he’d never have again, except through the whispers that come through windows bearing sights of blooming greenery and snow-capped homes. The quiet mutters of early mornings and late nights. The horribly familiar smell of lavender that saturated her pillow and fine hair.

Frederick swayed in his seat and felt the chair beneath him wobble. The walls shuddered and the gem pressed against his chest grew white-hot in his hands and against his skin. With a shout, he dropped it onto the table and panted. Sweat dripped down his scalp and his joints ached. He rubbed his wrinkled face and wiped his baggy eyes.

It was done. Beyond done. Done and done, as they say. It was done twenty-seven years ago, and every day he remembered it like the first. Lara was gone, and this was all that remained.

The memories. They said they’d drive the surviving partner mad. Sometimes, he wished they had.


End file.
